Black Magic
by JazzyDashy
Summary: Bayonetta has just arrived at the Smash Bros. tournament, and instantly has her ass handed to her by Samus Aran. The witch decides that swift, humiliating revenge is in order, even if it means pissing off the bounty hunter by messing with her so called 'lovers', Mac and Snake.(Note - this is neither a SamMac or SamSnake story)


_**Black Magic**_

 _by Smutty Circus/Cydney_

* * *

Flying. It was something she did naturally, she thought. Gravity certainly had no agreement with her. Whether she was plunging down a shaft or taking flight under her own power, the Umbra Witch was right at home with her feet off the ground. But this… _this_ wasn't right, and she refused to 'get used to it' like she was told to.

Bayonetta landed awkwardly, striking the earth and rolling a few yards. She's had _much worse_ in her lifetime, but this…? She felt dirt brush her face. Smelled grass, which _really_ clashed with the perfume she wore.

This was _humiliating_. She pushed herself up, finding the world cracked and distorted. Elegant fingers pulled her glasses from her face, finding one of her lenses spider-webbed and broken. ' _They don't make them like they used to,_ ' she frowned, tossing the pair aside. She was on her feet a moment later, fluid grace and silken moves. She pushed a flavoured lollipop between her painted lips and smiled cheekily, drawing a weapon and aiming at the glossy metal chest of the hunter.

This 'Samus Aran' creature just stood there, like some art-deco nightmare. Metal curves and flat planes and _ugh_ , too much orange! A slug or two would add some character to them.  
"You've come on _too strong_ for me, darling," she said, feeling the handgun pulse in her hand as she fired.

Nothing happened, and Bayonetta felt her frown returning, marring her features. She pulled her trigger again, feeling it click uselessly. Nature seemed to grow unnaturally still, until her opponent took a step towards her and flicked at the air. A metallic _twang!_ Echoed, and the witch watched her bullet scatter to the ground in front of her.

"You ran out of time," the voice said, filtered just a little through whatever apparatus she was wearing. Bayonetta would have been confused for a moment, if her challenger didn't just turn her back on her and begin to walk away. Righteous anger swiftly replaced _that_ little mental nonsense.

"Now you get your steel knickers back here," she snapped, her gun still in her hand. "This _isn't_ over, love."  
"Wrong again." Samus didn't turn and didn't stop. The smooth canon gestured up and off to a scoreboard above them where, horror of horrors, it claimed _them_ as the winner. And _she_ the loser.  
"Get used to it," they repeated, before they were gone. Bayonetta narrowed her eyes, glaring from the exit they took back up to the scoreboard, where 'Time!' flashed in solid lettering.

She decided that she would _not_ get used to it, and she made a habit of sticking to her decisions. If she was stranded at this 'Smash' thingy, then this little Umbra Witch wasn't going home without the top prize. Whatever it was, anyway. But most of all, she'd be bringing this so called bounty hunter down onto her metal ass.

 _Nobody_ made such a fool out of her. She strode from the arena on long legs, pushing another pair of ornate glasses up onto her nose. It was time to learn the lay of the land, she thought. The witch almost immediately bumped into someone with an even _worse_ idea of fashion. She tried to hide her distasteful look as she looked down at the messy blonde hair, elfen ears and green hat. Like Santa's, sans the bobble at the end.

"Tell me something, little elf." An expressive face looked up at her, eyes narrowing and brows quirking together. She smiled at him, already entertained by how earnestly this one seemed to broadcast themselves. Like a little blonde Luca with a sword on his back. She wondered if this one would be so easy to twist around her finger…

"What can you tell me about this _lovely_ Samus person? It would be nice to get to know them better…"

Bayonetta watched as Blonde Luca shrugged. Chainmail and leather seemed to tinkle at the gesture, before he tilted his head, turned and walked away. She felt her ire rise again, feeling like perhaps she was in a circus instead of a championship. "At least Luca is _somewhat_ helpful," she breathed to herself, swearing never to let him know it.

"Don't mind Link. He's… the quiet type."

She turned, looking over her shoulder back down the curving hallway. A fine eyebrow arched as emptiness winked back at her. The witch turned again, towards where the elf – Link? – had vanished.

"Uh… back here?"

She turned and stalled She tried not to laugh, certain now that she was in some glorified, traveling amusement park. "And who might _you_ be?" she asked, her voice a sweet peal as she looked him up and down.

"Me? Name's Mac. Little Mac."

' _Of course you_ are.' Some little bubble of amusement settled in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps her sins had come back to visit her in the form of this odd little Purgatory. At least it may prove interesting, she thought. She smiled demurely, fighting the urge to laugh. ' _Little? Well, certainly not Big Mac. Why not Tiny Mac?'_ Even Enzo was taller than this fellow, dressed head to toe in a stereotypical boxing attire. The garish gloves and hairstyle were maybe a little over the top, but still not half as bad as what she had seen so far.

"And what do _you_ do here, Mac?" she asked, half expecting him to say that he wrestled lions or sold peanuts to spectators. The boxer sniffed and managed to rub his nose with the back of his padded glove. She had seen enough people in her time try and impress her, either by looking nonchalant or acting tough. From the way Mac shifted his weight from one leg to the other and shrugged, she figured he probably couldn't decide which tact would work better on her.

From a man only _marginally_ taller than her hip, she hoped that he wasn't going to hold his breath.

"Oh, I'm a real heavyweight," he said, nodding and shifting his shoulders back and forth. "You know, champion brawler, record holder… In fact, me an' Samus are a _pretty big deal_ around here." Oh – now _that_ got her attention. Bayonetta felt the attractive pull of an easy mark. Surely this Little Mac didn't mean that they were on par with one another in terms of skill – the opponent she faced in there could probably mop the floor with him as easily as they did to… well, _her_.

"Well then my _dear_ Mac," she drawled, smiling sweetly and leaning down a few inches. The boxer wasn't able to keep his eyes from falling towards her cleavage, pressed enticingly against the crescent moon shape in her outfit. "Just how big of a deal are we talking…?"

"Well…" Mac tore his eyes from her chest, puffing out a breath of air and fumbling, grabbing at words as they flew through his mind. "I mean… me an' her have been pretty hot and heavy in the past, if you know what I mean…?" Her face drew blank and he hurried to add "Not that we _still_ are, no. I mean, messy break up, she doesn't like to talk about it. But at the moment I'm available and-"

Bayonetta only caught every other word – the rest tumbled to the floor as she processed what she was hearing. This 'Samus Aran' was a woman beneath the armour? She had moved with such strength and vigour, her movements almost masculine. Athletic, but not with the same ballerina dexterity that she or Jeanne possessed.

And more than that – she had a relationship with this 'Mac'? She adjusted her glasses, wondering if perhaps her secondary pair was warped in the lenses.

"- so if you want a tour of the place, I've got no plans."

She shook her head, coming back to reality in time to see the diminutive boxer gazing longingly at her chest again. Perhaps if Blonde Luca was known as 'Link,' she ought to call this one 'Tiny Luca.' Bayonetta was amazed he hadn't begun to drool. And as tempting as it was to brush him off all together, she was utterly _fascinated_ with her worthy opponent from before. She wanted to learn her secrets and repay her for the earlier humiliation. And what better way to do both than from the mouth of an ex-lover?

"Well then." She licked the edge of a fruity lollipop, letting her plush lips slide over it in a way that would send anyone's blood running south. "I can think of a few places I'd like to explore."

* * *

The Umbra Witch barely resisted the urge to sigh as she pumped her hand – not so much from excitement or arousal, but from sheer _boredom_. The boxer proved to be every bit as easy as Luca was, and she had him spinning stories in no time about this bounty hunter she held a grudge over. Unfortunately, most of it was just that – stories.

"Samus did this." "Samus destroyed that." "Samus has a hot ass." Bayonetta had rolled her eyes and tried not to pay attention to her work. She rarely resorted to using casual sex as a tool – no matter who they were, she couldn't abide by having some little upstart strutting around because they were allowed to see her naked ass. But this boxer was quickly pushing her frustrations into overdrive, constantly bragging about how fantastic Samus was in bed and how she held him above all others.

Bayonetta assumed he meant _literally_ held. So, when she finally couldn't take the bragging anymore, she got down to brass tacks. The witch _ordered_ him to strip, musing that if everything he said was true, then maybe she'd piss off her new enemy by giving her favourite little lover some fun.

Little Mac without clothes was exactly what she expected she'd find – between the bulging mass of muscle here, there and everywhere, he seemed to resemble a fist more than a man. A fist with a goofy haircut, no less. And the way he sat back against the chair while she stroked and jerked his throbbing member was far from attractive. It reminded Bayonetta of how empowered some exotic dancers felt – a little skin and a sway of the hips and some men would mortgage the house for them. But she still had to remind herself that it was all to upset some bitch in a steel suit to make it worth her while.

She wasn't easy by any means. No, the witch wasn't about to part her splendid legs any time soon for the little boxer. But she knew of how full and firm and pleasing she was to look at, and she wasn't above using _those_ charms to get what she wanted. Besides – how many of the really _good_ rituals called upon candlelit chambers, explosive orgasms and a half dozen witnesses chanting? At least that's what she enjoyed telling people.

For now though, the only worthwhile thing she was getting from Mac (besides greasy pre-cum across his tip) was a poor opinion of her new foe. If Samus really was so head-over-heels for him, well… Bayonetta already knew she didn't have much taste, what with that ridiculous suit of power armour she wore.

"Mac?" She sped up her hand, feeling his prick begin to twitch as he huffed and hissed like a bull. "Don't you have _anything_ more to say about your ex-lover?" She didn't care if she wasn't being subtle anymore. Her hand spun and squeezed, making him arch up and hiss again. If she was going to have to move fast to dodge something wet and sticky, she wanted to get at least _something_ interesting out of it all.

"Who? What ex…?"

Her hand stopped. She felt him twitching, his inches of flesh pulsing against her gloved hand. But as far as the witch was concerned, he was done. Mac had given her _nothing_ to go on, and if making him climax really did aggravate Aran, it just made her earlier humiliation _worse_. Because spirits above, she had poor taste in both colour coordination _and_ men.

"I'm afraid I'm bored," she said in a dull voice. She pulled the plastic stick of her lollipop from her mouth as Mac pulled himself together, staring at her like she had grown another head.  
"What? You want to do more…?"  
"No. But I _am_ going to leave you, now," she said, peeling the silk glove from her hand and flicking it away as if it were worthless. Like her glasses, she had more than enough to spare.

"You-! What about _me_?"

She fixed him with a patient smile, as though she were talking to a boy who didn't know that when the children were told to stop playing, it meant him, too.

"Try some cold water," she said, and a playful giggle escaped at the put-out look on his face. "See you around, _Little_ Mac." Bayonetta stepped out of the rental room and into the arena hallway, not bothering to close it behind her. Mac stared at where she vanished, too dumbstruck to move. Until Captain Falcon stopped long enough to peer inside.

"What the _hell_?"  
"Get out!" Mac jumped up from the chair, forgetting that his boxing trunks were pulled down around his ankles and tipping him flat on his face.  
"No, again – what in the _hell_ , man?" Falcon blocked the door, looking down either side of the hallway for anyone coming. He was pretty happy to not see Little Mac with a little hard on.  
"Shut up," the boxer grunted from the ground. "She tricked me."  
" _Who_ tricked you?"  
"Her! That… new one! With the glasses!" Falcon frowned, looking back over his shoulder where Mac fumbled on the ground to pull his pants up.

"Ain't _nobody_ was around here except for you," he muttered. Little Mac growled with frustration.  
"She was here! Kept asking me about Samus and-"  
"Oh for the love of- You've _got_ to get over this obsession, Mac."

The boxer began to sputter, trying to summon some venomous retaliation, but Falcon was gone again. Mercifully after closing the door of the room.

* * *

Two days into her new assignment- _cum_ -challenge and Bayonetta was unimpressed. It seemed to really be just a gaggle of fighters, competing for… glory or honour or _something_. Maybe the prize was cash. Or wine. Hell, even chocolates. But she had to admit that there was a primitive appeal to it all. A contest of worthy opponents. Some were allies that were forced together in cruel twists of fate. Others were bitter rivals, exploiting every weakness they could find. It was the stuff that fuelled crazy Asian gameshows, if not corny, trashy romance novels.

But most of all, she couldn't deny the spikes of adrenalin and satisfaction when she found herself facing a true opponent. No mindless angels or messengers from God, no. These were some of the _real_ monsters and masters of combat. And whenever she landed on someone's back, her heel-revolvers pressing menacingly into their spine, she was exhilarated. Bayonetta – champion of the Smash Bros. tournament, puffing her chest and striking a pose. She rather liked the sound of it, silly as it was.

But most of all, she still believed she found a worthy foe in the form of this Samus Aran. And she _still_ didn't know anything new about her after being there for two whole days. She wanted to be subtle, letting the few conversations she initiated flow before she shifted the topic towards the bounty hunter. Some claimed she was just a gifted person, and other insisted she was raised in the heavens with alien blood infused with her own. A sugary-sweet princess (really) worried at her lip and said that Samus was a strong person, which she already knew. The next person she bothered to talk to was a child who claimed to be – of all things – an angel.

"Samus is a bully," Pit sniffed. "She doesn't believe in angels, and I'm like, hey! I'm standing _right here_."

Bayonetta had smiled and patted the child on the head, ruffling a mop of mousy brown hair. Internally, she had to agree with her mysterious rival – the only thing this deluded lad shared with God's messengers was a horribly high-pitched voice.

She knew she was bordering on the dangerous side of 'obsession,' but she had seen and done much worse in her long life. Holding a grudge against some inhuman woman who tossed her around like a ragdoll wasn't anywhere near the top, either. Not when every time she recalled it left her flushed with hot bitterness.

* * *

"It seems that I'm being stalked," she announced casually one morning. She drew a polished weapon and aimed it towards the same non-descript box that she had seen dozens of times now, and always in a different position. "I wonder if there's anything _fragile_ inside…" She cocked her gun, satisfied with the loud _click_ that all of Rodin's toys made.

The cardboard box was tossed aside as a man frowned at her. Tall and dishevelled, she would describe him. Scruffy and in need of a haircut. Unless he was going for the '80's style that he had seemed to nail on the head.

"I don't seem to remember ordering you off the internet." She kept her gun trained on him, making herself comfortable in a seat and slowly crossing one long leg over the other. She was rather pleasantly surprised that her mystery man managed to keep his eyes on her, instead of the teasing glimpse of her inner thighs.

"And you're not as smooth as you think you are," he muttered, and Bayonetta laughed.  
"Oh, I rather think that I _am_ , thank you."  
"As smooth as a stalker gets, anyway."

She arched her brow, letting her revolver lower just enough. She kept it trained on him, but her eyes twinkled with mischief as she stared up past her long lashes.  
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said coyly. He rolled his eyes and shook his scruffy head.  
"So you're _not_ trying to write a book on Samus Aran. Right." She ignored the dry, sarcastic tone in his voice. But she didn't overlook the defensive nature of it, either.

"My, have we hit a nerve here, Mister Mail-Order? Could it be I'm invading your territory, here?" She smirked, pushing her glasses up her nose before biting her lip. All she was missing was the smell of fresh coffee and they could have starred in a French short movie, she thought. "I wonder how many cardboard boxes she walks past of a daytime."  
"I don't _need_ to keep a watch on her," he muttered, and the boast in his voice was impossible to miss. Bayonetta almost rolled her eyes, feeling déjà vu creeping in. This scruffy hide-and-seek enthusiast was just a taller version of Mac – she could even see the defined musculature structure beneath the harness and clothing that he wore.

Maybe Samus liked her men bulging, dumb and with odd hairstyles?

"So, would you be her _current_ lover, then? Or someone who's waiting for a chance to 'ride her spaceship?'" He crossed his arms over his broad chest, staring down at the Umbra Witch who cheekily stared back.  
"The name is Snake," he said, and she didn't both to hide the rolling of her eyes. At this point, she didn't even question if it was a codename or not. Perhaps Mom and Pop Cardboard Box were hippies who wanted their son to slither in and out of small spaces. "And _yeah_ , we've had history together in the past. So I'm telling you to back off, witch."

"Well, _my name_ is Bayonetta." She uncrossed her leg and waved a few fingers towards him in a small, teasing gesture. "And it sounds to _me_ like you were _dumped_. So why should my business be a concern of yours?"

He crossed the room in a second, and she had to admit that he looked good while doing it. He moved like quicksilver. Fluid muscles and strength behind each step. His hands were upon the arms of her chair in an instant, and she knew she hit a nerve. Either he was still waiting for Samus to come back to him, or he was feeling _very_ defensive over an old flame.

"You just stay away from her," Snake growled. She watched him from behind thick lashes, amused at how much he was revealing in his little scare tactics. "She's a strong lady, and can do without some newcomer plotting to knife her in the back."

"I would _never_ ," she breathed, her voice hitching with mock horror. "I don't know how you could even _think_ such a thing of me, Mister Snake… I'd just shoot her in the front. Case in point?" Another loud _click_ echoed in the room and he looked down, where her leg had slowly come upwards and poised over his groin. The heavy pistol that sat on her heel was cocked. The witch herself hummed with merriment.

"Most men would start saying 'sorry' at this point." She tapped her cheek, tilting her head as though she were studying him. Looking at every line and crease and frustrated wrinkle on his face. "But you're not like most men, are you…? No, I can't _frighten_ you, can I? That's not your weakness." Snake glared at her, the revolver at the end of her bent leg still hovering near his anatomy. The witch licked her lips and grinned.

"You'll get nothing from me," he muttered, and her eyes flashed.  
"I think I already _have_." Without warning, she tucked her hands into the contours of her clothes, feeling them become loose and pliable like strands of silken hair instead of tight leather. Bayonetta pulled at the crescent moon on her chest, leaving her perky breasts naked and free. A little breeze and some fun thoughts was all it took to leave her rosy nipples puffy and aroused.

The effect was immediate. Snake pushed himself backward as if she had suddenly pulled a blade out. He looked away, refusing to gaze at the pretty witch who was busy laughing at him.

"What's the matter? They're just tits, good sir." She stood, her hands coming up to grasp herself, lifting her breasts and stroking them teasingly as she took a step closer. "So, what _is_ your weakness? Are you cowed by some chivalrous modesty? Or are you betraying your dear Samus by looking at another woman?"  
"Shuddup and put your top down," he muttered, refusing to meet her eyes.  
"I wonder if you're just _boring_ , and she thinks so too."  
"You're nothing compared to what I've seen."  
"And yet you hide."

Snake lowered his arm and glared, only to find that the Umbra Witch was redressed, her clothes immaculately stretched over her form as if they had never shifted. She wore a look of bemusement, adjusting her ornate glasses and waving past him with her revolver.

"Thank you for our little discussion," she hummed, striding past him on long legs. She stopped just long enough to glance back at his face, red from anger and frustration if not modesty. "Now I know your 'old flame' has terrible taste in men." If Snake had a comeback, she didn't wait around to hear it. Instead she swayed her hips as she walked outside, letting her weapon skim over the cardboard box long enough to shoot a wide hole in it. Bayonetta blew a plume of smoke from her weapon as she left, wondering if he actually kept spare cardboard boxes lying around.

Once she was gone, Snake scrubbed a hand down his stubbled face and swore internally. When he looked up to see Captain Falcon staring down at the now-useless box, his mood was no better.

"Weapons misfire?"  
"Witch misfire," Snake muttered. Behind the helmet, he wondered if Falcon was surprised or not.  
"What was all that yelling I heard about putting a top down?"  
"Never you mind," Snake seethed, brushing past the bounty hunter. "And don't breathe a word of this to Samus."

Falcon's brows knitted together, trying to catch up. Whatever was happening lately, it involved a lot of nudity and Samus Aran. And he'd have to get in on that kind of action!

* * *

She bumped into the elf again later that afternoon. Link. She remembered the name – one of the few she found that was unique without being _too_ silly. Of course, it was more fun to wink down at him and call him an elf.

"I don't suppose _you_ have much you want to talk about?" she asked, and she was answered with a crooked frown and a shrug of the shoulders. Part of her wondered if he was mute – outside of some grunts of exertion, she hadn't witnessed him talking yet. But, she reasoned, she _was_ rather busy trying to undermine and upset the fighter who humiliated her days before. Priorities, and all.

"So, how long have you been at this little game for?" She allowed herself to be curious. He was different than the others she had seen and met. Not packed with muscles like Mac or Ike. Nor overly athletic, like that albino trainer. Just an average looking man with a sword on his back, a silly tunic and long ears.

The average looking ones always managed to surprise you, though, she thought. He held up an open palm, thumb tucked in, which she took as 'four.' Bayonetta asked if this meant four seasons, and he nodded.

The entire thing had only been going for four seasons, she mused. So, her little elf friend had been in it from the word go, like the plumber and the dinosaur. And Samus.

"I'm guessing you've got a bit of history too with my rival after being here so long, hm?" Her eyebrow quirked as Link raised a hand and offered a so-so motion. She had to give him some begrudging respect – unlike Snake, _this one_ wasn't giving her anything to go by. Either he wasn't involved with the woman beneath the metal suit, or he was a better actor than the rest she had met. Bayonetta chuckled and shook her head. With her current streak of poor luck, it was probably this quiet, average swordsman who was sharing Aran's bed. And unlike every other mouthy male around her, she knew that this one wouldn't be so easy to crack.

"Just tell me, then." With nothing else, she gave in to idle curiosity. "Do you ever open your mouth and say something?"  
"Only when I'm in the mood."

Bayonetta felt her eyebrows rise at that. She had expected to be answered with another shrug. Or perhaps, if he did talk, it was some light and sweet voice that suited his angular face. Something youthful that would make him a heartthrob to teenaged girls. Instead, he had a voice that didn't seem to suit him. Rough and raw from a lack of use, no doubt. She didn't think he was the smoking type, really.

"Judging by some of the people I've met, it's not hard to get in the mood around here." She gave him a coy smile. The elf merely shrugged, eyes closed and mouth drawn in a careless way. Bayonetta interpreted it as a gesture that meant a lot of things – chief among them that he _wasn't_ so easy. She felt her begrudging respect for him double.

After a few more days of dead ends and boring matches, the witch decided that if she wasn't going to be able to piss off and undermine Aran, she'd just have to beat her. Not a huge worry – she certainly got to know the feel of the areas and the rules as she went. She just preferred to have that little extra edge in a fight. And, if she were honest, the idea of getting under that steel skin of hers made Bayonetta giggle like a madwoman.

So, with options exhausted, the Umbra Witch gave up on getting her information from little boxers, serpent-named soldiers and silent elves. She would just enter the daily tournament and, when the time was right, crack open that gaudy orange armour to inflict a little revenge.

"Honestly, I know _lots_ about Samus."

She kept walking as Captain Falcon accompanied her towards the arena, making minor small talk before claiming _again_ to know her rival.

"That's nice, but I'm past all that," she said, putting a lollipop in her mouth and striding on as Falcon fell behind.  
"Oh. Right." She heard his defeated voice from far back as she prepared for the first match up. She wondered how long it would take to get to where she needed to be – standing triumphant over that suit of machinery and reminding everyone of just how powerful the Umbra Witch was. Providing she didn't have to waste too much time against the menagerie of other contestants.

She was certain the universe was against her when she found herself facing not one, but _both_ Little Mac and Snake. The small fighter almost refused to look her in the eye, but the older, scruffier opponent couldn't have glared harder.

"My, my – are you boys going to go easy on little old me?" She batted her eyelashes coquettishly, like some poor maiden out of her depth. She almost didn't hear the steps of someone else coming up alongside her.  
"Not on your own," a new voice hummed, and Bayonetta was certain she had never seen so much brilliant blue on a person before. This newcomer woman was virtually _painted_ with it – a brilliant sheen that covered her tall, lithe figure, hugging her curves and shape. And more – this blonde newcomer had high heels and a _gun_ – a smart looking pistol from the cover of a science fiction magazine. A polar opposite of her own revolvers. "Ready for a little two against two?"

' _Be still my heart_ ', the witch thought, stepping closer to her new partner and jutting her hip out.  
"And who might _you_ be, darling?" She smiled behind her glasses, her sights trained on the pair ahead of them and stealing a glance at the woman beside her. She even shared the same kind of beauty mark that she did, amazingly enough.

"You know me," the blonde said. The next words almost made the witch choke on her lollipop. "I'm Samus."

Bayonetta wasn't sure her luck was _that_ bad. She had expected some battle axe of a woman beneath the armour. Some half-human, half alien hybrid, even if Mac did claim to sleep with her. Now, staring at the too-tall bombshell blonde, she was certain that the scrappy fighter had been all boasts and no substance.

"You know something?" The Umbra Witch cocked her pistols, speaking from the corner of her mouth as she waited for the timer to begin. "Ever since I got here, I've wondered who humiliated me so easily, and how best to get even with her." Beside her, Samus laughed dryly.  
"Welcome to the league, then," she replied. "You'll fit in nicely. Did you find out how you're going to hurt me?"  
"Just that you like odd men with bad haircuts."

The bounty hunter balked at that, whirling towards the witch with a glare.

" _What_ are you talking about?"  
"I took it personally," the witch shrugged. "So I asked around, and _these two_ claimed to know you." She aimed her handgun at both Mac and Snake in turn, before adding "intimately." She almost felt Samus Aran begin to boil beside her, and the small, petty, vindictive part of her knew that she had her revenge after dropping that little spoiler alert on her.

Now that it was said and done, she felt rather glad to have her small vengeance be over with. A sideways glance showed how fuming mad she was. Maybe Samus found it more infuriating than she found her early defeat to be? The witch decided she would pull her aside afterwards and let the bounty hunter vent, perhaps over some fruity cocktails. Now that she had her little fun, she had to admit it. Samus Aran was the type of lady you'd lie about if people asked if you knew her on a personal level.

For now, she was sure she could see a vein twitching in Aran's temple.  
"Just _what_ did they say?" She asked through gritted teeth, and the pair across from them shared a nervous look that made Bayonetta's insides positively gleeful.  
"The older one," she began, gesturing Snake. "He claimed that you and he had a history, dear." If Samus had an issue with being called 'dear' by the flirty witch, she didn't show it. She just narrowed her eyes at the soldier,

"One date," she snapped, and Snake's mouth twisted into an unhappy frown. "One. And that was _it_. That's not 'history,' Snake." His mouth opened to form some reply, but her weapon snapped up and halted him. Bayonetta had the funny feeling that Samus had heard all the same excuses from him before.

"And _that one_?" The witch continued, not bothering to hide her grin as she gestured towards Little Mac. The boxer knocked his gloves together as if awaiting for an honest bout to occur. "Well, _he_ claimed that you and he were sleeping together."  
"What?" The witch was certain she had never heard such a flat, unimpressed use of the word 'what' before.

"Well, he made it seem like there wasn't a lot of sleeping going on, really."  
"Now, I didn't say _that_." Mac cleared his throat trying to summon something clever to say before Aran's gun shifted down towards him.  
"You'll _sleep forever_ once I get my hands on you," she snarled.

The timer for the match to begin started counting down, and Bayonetta was certain it was the longest ten seconds of her life. She slid into a defensive stance, guns drawn.  
"Men – can't trust them, can you dear?"  
"Not these two."  
"Shall we teach them a lesson?"  
"Just try and stop me."

The counter hit zero.

* * *

The Umbra Witch giggled as she felt the bed hit the back of her legs, sending her tumbling down onto the mattress. She was joined a moment later by the buxom blonde, winding her hands through Bayonetta's short, choppy hair and pulling her close for another searing kiss. It had been far too long since the witch enjoyed this kind of attention. She tasted sweet plum flavours from their celebratory wine, and Samus' tongue was an aggressive, thrilling little muscle. If she wasn't made of sterner stuff, she was sure she would have gone light headed and giddy long ago.

"Well, dear," she sighed, stretching out on the bed as Samus traced her fingers across the belts and buckles and zippers of her clothing. "You certainly know how to make a girl feel special."  
"And you must _hate_ having to rush to the bathroom with all this to undo." The bounty hunter hovered above her, a breathless look on her face as she pouted.  
"You're one to talk, dear. I can't imagine how you peel this second skin of yours off." Of course, she'd be open to learning how…

As if reading her mind, Aran gave her a cheeky little smile and cracked her hands together. Some vague, smart little gesture made her suit shimmer before it seemed to shred itself. Neither stitch nor seam was left. Just Samus – tall, milky skinned and kneeling there in a pair of panties and a comfortable bra.

"I think it's your turn, _dear_." The bounty hunter put some extra _oomph_ behind the cheeky little word as she unhooked herself. Bayonetta was certainly fond of saying it, and she enjoyed sending the witch off balance just a little bit.

"That's not fair." She pushed her glasses up her nose, unashamedly staring as Samus tossed her bra away and left her pale breasts glowing under the room's lights. "You're distracting me now, and _I_ don't make pretty colours when I get undressed." The bounty hunter smirked, bringing an arm up beneath her tits, lifting them slightly to give them extra curve. And just to be mean, she slid her other arm across them, blocking her taut nipples from view, depriving the witch of her show.

"It's not fair if _I'm_ the only one who's undressed, either, you know…" Samus' words trailed off as the tight fitting clothes of her new partner seemed to shimmer and grow slack, like they were made of loose threads or silken hair, vanishing into the ether. She raised a blonde eyebrow, unsurprised that Bayonetta did _not_ bother with underwear like she herself did.

The Umbra Witch brought her finger to her lips and playfully bit it, stretching naked beneath the blonde.  
"I can't help but think of how similar we are," she hummed, letting her eyes dance up and down the miles of toned flesh that was Aran's arms and legs. "Tall, busty, _beautiful_. We could probably pass as twins, you know." She winked devilishly while Samus rolled her eyes. The bounty hunter even snorted as she fell back against the mattress, wigging her hips about while she pulled her panties up and off her legs.

"Keep that opinion to yourself," she said, flicking her underwear aside and letting herself relax, feet digging into the quilt they lay on. "Or my other half will start believing it."

Now that really got the witch's attention. The leaned down, head resting on her chin while she shamelessly enjoyed the view she had, following along Samus' long legs to where a hint of shadow disguised her pink folds. "So you _do_ have someone special? I was starting to think everyone was suffering from wishful thinking." The blonde laughed as Bayonetta toyed with her foot, stroking her narrow ankle before pushing it aside and parting her legs a few precious inches more. "So, should I be worried about a jealous lover coming after me in the night?"

Samus brought herself up on her arms, eyebrow raised and watching the Umbra Witch slowly crawling between her legs. She had to admit – there was a sexy, serpentine way that she moved.  
"Are you _really_ worried? Or is this your sneaky way of getting a name out of me?" The witch shrugged, rubbing her cheek against Samus' knee and winking behind her glasses.

"Can't blame a girl for curiosity," she sighed. She _wasn't_ worried – not that her pretty new friend had someone special. Not even if she was in _love_ with them. But with most of the idiots wandering around willing to sell their soul to be in her place right now, she couldn't help but wonder who was the lucky one to bed the bounty hunter.

It was Samus' turn to read her mind, grinning playfully and bending her knees. Supple, pale legs parted, giving Bayonetta an inviting look of her trimmed curls and blushing folds. Her foot rubbed against the witch's shoulder, her finger beckoning her closer.

"They're off fighting," she said simply. "You might get to meet them later if we're still enjoying ourselves."

Bayonetta grinned wickedly, setting her glasses aside before she crawled the remaining distance and pressed another kiss against the blonde's eager lips. She had no intention of leaving _this_ little party early.

* * *

Between them, the blonde and brunette almost wrecked the bed. Whatever the wooden frame was designed for, it wasn't this. Not a pair of tall warriors stretched opposite one another, legs akimbo and desperately brushing their wet folds against one another, moaning softly as they chased their orgasms.

Bayonetta had flexibility on her side – even if Samus was every bit the athlete she was, the witch enjoyed contorting herself into exotic positions. Muscles stretched and sang as she felt her thighs grow slick from her clit being furiously rubbed against another woman's core. If the witch used her lithe form and dexterity, then Samus enjoyed being more dominant. The blonde would stop just long enough to palm her heavy breast and pull at her nipple. To bend her legs and pull her new lover closer. To aggressively grind against Bayonetta's cunt with her own, panting huskily as her climax began to get closer.

"Such a pretty little thing," the witch cooed, licking her damp lip and watching the blonde blush and writhe. "Are you going to give me another? It's three to two, now."  
"Shut up," Samus swallowed, leaning back against the bed and weakly shifting her hips. Her clitoris throbbed and her core pulsed. The night air alone caressed her heated skin, sending electric sensations down her spine and straight towards her centre. "It's _not_ a competition."

Bayonetta disagreed, uncurling herself from Samus' legs and reaching down, gently cupping the blonde's peach and rubbing slow circles over the slippery flesh. Everything between them had been a competition since she arrived. And, rather naively, she wanted to make it a violent one.

Samus Aran bucked and arched off the bed as the witch pushed her fingers inside her wet pussy. Her toes curled and her breath hitched, her pale breasts blushing pink as another orgasm slammed into her and wracked her lithe frame.

Four to two, the witch mentally added with a grin. Now this – _this_ type of competition was much more fun.

"I think you're all worn out, darling," she whispered. Samus' ponytail was messy again. Blonde hair clung to her sweaty face while she panted and trembled, her orgasm still sending small shocks through her body. The consenting little nod she gave was the sweetest prize that Bayonetta had won since she arrived at this silly tournament. Here was a _real_ victory, she thought with satisfaction.

"Yeah, you win," she murmured, licking her dry lips and grabbing for a bottle of water on the bedside table. "Think I'll just have to wait for my backup to arrive." Bayonetta arched a fine eyebrow, watching her greedily swallow water. She still didn't know much about the bounty hunter, but she wouldn't have thought that she was the type to share partners or willingly fall into bed with others. Not after the way she brutally threw Little Mac about for claiming they were involved with one another. (And watching the fighter howl as he was thrown was her new definition of hilarious.)

"Now I'm just _dying_ of curiosity," the witch hummed, stretching out on her front and kicking her feet in the air behind her. "And if you're going to invite them to join, shouldn't I get a _little_ _hint_?" Samus continued to drink, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand just as the lock on the door clicked open. Bayonetta reached for her glasses automatically, preferring _not_ to squint towards the shadowed entrance to see who was interrupting their little bonding session. But the blonde simply waved towards the door, muttering a "right on time" as it opened.

The witch felt her eyebrows shoot upwards as she pushed her glasses up, amused to say the least when the door was closed again.  
"Well, that _is_ unexpected," she purred, watching her little elf friend pull his hat off and stare at the bed for a moment. Big blue eyes went from Bayonetta, coy and playful, to an equally naked Samus, who looked thoroughly worn out. Without a word, Link removed his sword and unfastened one of his belts, dropping pieces of equipment as he crossed the room to the fridge and pulled a bottle of cold water out.

"Bless you, babe," Samus moaned as he pulled off the cap and handed it to the sweaty bounty hunter. Bayonetta watched as he gave her some vague gesture with his hands, tilting his head this way and that as she noisily swallowed. It was rather funny, until she saw Samus return the movements out of the corner of her eye. Still drinking, the blonde gave a few waves of her hand and flicked her eyes upwards. The witch just watched the couple silently communicate for a while, using whatever little system they shared. To most, it could pass as some sloppy form of sign language.

Bayonetta bit her lip and grinned at how preciously intimate it all seemed, for the pair of them to reach this level. "You two are just so _cute_ ," she gushed, reaching behind her to pinch Samus' cheek. The blonde glared and swatted her hand away.  
"Don't let the other nutcases hear you," she croaked when she finished drinking. "Or neither of us will hear the end of it." The witch rolled her eyes – she could believe _that_ easily enough. But it was much easier to let herself watch the elf shucking off the rest of his gear, yanking the tunic off over his head and leaving the glinting chainmail underneath. What little she could see was rather enjoyable – athletic without being over the top. Not bulging here, there and everywhere like Mac. Just… enjoyable. And the messy mop of hair was certainly an improvement over some of the other styles.

"You know, I spent the last few days thinking you had _horrible_ taste in men." She watched as Link gave her an odd look, gazing past her towards his partner who returned it with a twitch of her hand. An obvious 'I'll tell you later' motion that made the witch smile again at how preciously adorable the pair of them were. Then she stretched out, letting her foot stroke teasingly along her calf as she watched the quiet swordsman. A little shorter than either of them, but with how tall both ladies were it was too be expected. Angular features, cunning eyes and a deceptively attractive body.

"I have to say, though – you've picked a rather fetching elf for a partner." She let her eyes twinkle mischievously over Link's face, who gave her an unimpressed look before she cringed as a finger flicked her in the back of the neck.

"He's Hylian. And enough of _that_ , now," Samus chided her. Bayonetta rubbed her ear, momentarily thrown off guard by the sneak attack while the bounty hunter pulled her closer towards her. The witch found herself reclining between her new lovers legs, back cushioned against her soft bosom while Samus played with her short hair and neck, trailing her hands down towards her wide hips and back up to her perky breasts.

"Those ears are _very_ important, you know," she murmured, feeling the leggy Umbra begin to melt against her teasing touches.  
"Oh? Are they sensitive little darlings?" Bayonetta chuckled smoothly, slipping her glasses back off and enjoying the attention she felt. She didn't notice Samus giving her partner a discreet nod, mouthing a few words that only he understood.  
"Something like that," she evaded. The bounty hunter played with the witch's nipples. Little pink peaks against her curvy chest, enjoying how they made the brunette hum and wiggle against her.

"But most of all…" Samus let her lips brush across Bayonetta's pierced ear, teasing the lobe with her lips. "You'll need something to hang onto while he gives you the best head of your life."

The witch opened her eyes slowly, trying to process through the pleasant tingles she felt in her chest. She looked towards the elf – _Hylian_ – surprised to see he had moved as quietly as ever, leaning across the edge of the bed towards her still-wet core. Bayonetta's eyebrows arched, her mouth hanging open as she felt Samus' hand leave her bosom to give him another little gesture.

"What are-" The words died in her mouth as she shuddered and mewled. Link's angular face slid between her thighs, kissing – actually _kissing_ – her aching clit. And then he moved, lavishing her sensitive folds with his hot tongue and leaving the Umbra trembling.

She could only lie there and moan softly, reclined against Samus' body while the bounty hunter fondled and palmed her breasts. She knew enough to keep her nipples zinging, sending happy shocks down to her toes. But the elf between her legs with a new kind of torture. Bayonetta tried to remember the last time she felt (or even allowed) someone so close to her precious core, and the talented way he teased and licked her sent hot flushes coursing through her body.

"Skilled, isn't he?" Samus' voice was a husky whisper, breath caressing her neck. She was certain she was actually _blushing_ now.  
"Deliciously so," she agreed. Bayonetta's legs were already spread wide of her own accord, the heel of her foot stroking back and forth over his shoulder, toes curling whenever she felt his tongue dipping between her folds.  
"You can grab onto him," Samus reminded him, and the Umbra felt her hand move on its own. Fingers spread through soft locks of hair, slowly tracing the edge of an elongated ear.

"Better?" The bounty hunter softly squeezed the witch's slopes, feeling her writhe and hum and nod. Samus smirked wickedly, giving another little nod to her partner-in-crime. "Now, just don't hurt him when he gives you the big finish."

"The big wha-?" Bayonetta's thoughts derailed as Link doubled his efforts. Her thighs squeezed around his head while his teeth brushed her clit. His lips covering her pearl and sucking so sweetly and _wickedly_ that she was sure she could curse them all to oblivion without even trying. A thick, warm finger slid between her folds, stroking and curling, brushing her rough cluster of delicate nerves.

The last thought that the witch had was how thoroughly Samus must have trained him to find a g-spot so quickly. Everything else became a streak of lights, bursting behind her eyes. Her breath hitched before she moaned wantonly, shivering from the tender hands on her breasts and the flexible tongue lapping at her pussy.

Bayonetta trembled, feeling sweat clinging to her body and chilling her skin from the ceiling fan. She opened her eyes, blinking as she tried to focus her sight. Her glasses helped with things at a distance. Her close-up vision was normally fine. Normally. Normally, she didn't spend two hours having aggressive sex with a woman she considered a rival, climaxing twice before having a man join in and licking her to a third orgasm.

Not a normal evening for the Umbra Witch. Her eyesight finally cleared in time to see Samus' legs stretching out past her. And Link… She licked and bit her lip, her mouth going a little dry as she took in his naked form, wondering when he managed to take off all that gear. His hips and chest made an attractive 'v' shape, toned without the bulges that some of the more muscular men she knew had. And if she were perfectly honest, it _wasn't_ the biggest cock she had seen. But the thick muscle was full and firm, poised towards her with a glistening drop of precum on the tip. And Bayonetta _wanted_ it.

"Are you _sure_?"

She was too distracted to react at first. Her mind had to catch up with the idea that the gravelly question came from _him_ – that unused voice of his scratching at her hearing. But it was Samus' warm chuckle behind her that that let the witch know that he wasn't asking _her_ , anyway.

"We're all friends, now," the bounty hunter said seductively. Bayonetta shivered a little. She hadn't expected so much devotion between them that they'd have a sweet little talk about her, wondering if they _really_ wanted to cover the Umbra in between them. It would've been cute, if the elf wasn't standing at full mast with a wet chin and her partner wasn't _still_ massaging beneath her breasts.

Well, maybe it was a _little_ cute, she thought mischievously.

"What do you think?" Samus gave Bayonetta's nipples a little pull, leaving the witch squirming against her and mewling. "Want to be our 'friend'…?"

The Umbra looked down, watching as the bounty hunter lifted her leg to teasingly run her toe over the length of Link's erection, making it twitch and bob from arousal. She knew that whatever they had between them was a special little relationship, but having an invitation to join them _definitely_ added to the appeal of this whole 'Smash Bros.' nonsense.

"As long as we're _good friends_ ," she said saucily, leaning back just far enough to press a chaste kiss against Aran's warm, blushing cheek. The witch brought her legs a little further apart, beckoning her _other_ new friend to come closer. She felt Link's hips brush her thighs apart. That hard, muscular cock settling against the folds of her pussy, leaving excited little tingles rushing through her.

Bayonetta slid an arm around his neck, leaning up to feel rough lips capture hers as he pushed inside her. The witch sighed, feeling her folds stretch and tremble, filling up from his prick, while behind her Samus kissed at her neck and teased her aching nipples. She was usually always the dominant one in _any_ relationship, casual or otherwise. But being pinned between both blondes, Samus teasing her slowly while Link began moving inside her… She could get used to this kind of treatment.

Bayonetta wrapped a leg around his hips, arching back as the bounty hunter played with her hair and her bosom. She moaned softly, heatedly, feeling another steadily building orgasm starting to coil inside her hot tummy.

Maybe joining up with this silly outfit wasn't a bad idea, at all.

* * *

Captain Falcon was, as a rule, unreadable behind his shielded helmet. But there was no hiding that mirthful, bemused laugh of his as he looked inside the infirmary. Very few contestants ever needed it – not unless somebody was _really_ messed up.

It was frankly shocking to hear that there was two tied up in there tonight. From behind the glass, he watched as Little Mac and Snake occupied a pair of gurneys. Both were wrapped up in bandages like a pair of mummies, twitching on occasion as a monitor made a noise.

"Tsk tsk," the racer murmured, turning away from the observation window and rubbing his chin. "Rather glad I didn't get involved, now…"


End file.
